


zombies, run

by redqueenofprima



Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,393
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2303930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redqueenofprima/pseuds/redqueenofprima
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zombieland!AU. In a post-apocalyptic world, the three Dalton prefects struggle to find sanctuary (and coffee) while trying to survive from zombies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	zombies, run

**Author's Note:**

> Oh man, this was written for the Dalton Games a few years ago (years, can you believe that?) It was the last fic I ever wrote before 'whatever souls are made of' and it is my shoddy attempt at humor (which is a recipe for disaster because I don't have a _normal_ sense of humor whatsoever.) Many thanks to both June and Chy for being my lovely betas and cheerleaders during this thing. Rated for violence and language.
> 
> Warning: Slight gore and language and implied (sort of) sexual situations, plus slight suspension of belief. It’s _zombies_ , okay? References from Zombieland (of course), Easy A, I Am Legend, and Finding Nemo ahoy. Justin’s nickname, _pretentious douchebag_ , is a nod to The Social Network. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Charlie, Justin and/or Logan. The three of them are the lovely Ms. CP Coulter’s creation and I am merely borrowing them to come and play.

_Oh America, sweet America; with your bigoted and conservative citizens. Just when you were paving your way to improvement, you just up and decided to die off. Well, they did say that the most surefire way to create a new civilization is to kill off all existing life-forms. But, of course, America refused to go out without a big bang. Instead of just plain dying (like the rest of the world when that weird as fuck meteor collided with the Earth, wiping out everything else other than the United States of America), an epidemic erupted, infecting more than half of the country’s population and turning them into flesh-eating zombies. And those same zombies ate the rest of the population -- all except three. I am not fucking with you. I am completely dead serious. Or undead serious. Because, you know. Zombies are undead and...shut up, Amos._

_Anyways, as I was saying, it is truly amazing how things can go from bad to a complete shitfest._  
  
 _At least these zombiefied versions of the American people have no biases. People are food – no matter what race, gender and/or sexual orientation a person is and/or has. Food is food. Can’t say which version of the American people I like more._  
  
 _Anyways, I would seriously make an_ ‘I Am Legend’ _joke right now, but I understand that now is neither the time nor the place. Not to mention, I am neither immune nor alone. I have to take care of these two morons with me. I’m pretty sure that the three of us are the only non-cannibalistic freaks left on this Earth but even if that’s the case, and these two really are the last men in this Earth, I wouldn’t touch either of these asses within a ten-foot pole._ No, thank you.  
  
 _So no, my dear readers, we are no longer in the United States of Bigotry and Conservatism. This is the United States of Zombieland._  
  
 _How did we survive you ask, when the rest of America turned into flesh-eating zombies who have vomit and blood constantly coming out of their mouths? (Seriously, can’t they at least pop in a breath mint or two, or at least gargle? Show some fucking manners, at least. No, I don’t care that your brains swelled up to the point of idiocy. Stop making excuses.) Well, we follow a specific set of rules._

 

* * *

 

 _The rule number one of the Dalton houses’ official survival guide?_ **Cardio**.

 _I know, I know. It might seem a little silly but those years of jogging or running laps or chasing after your demented charges with a baseball bat in hand? It can be one of your useful advantages against these zombies. You have to be able to withstand running away from them because, well, if they can’t catch you then_ they can’t fucking eat you _. Understood?_

_Perfect._

* * *

 

Charlie Amos felt that this was his payment for all those times he hunted down those crazy Brightman twins in Windsor. _Preparation_. As if those twins had sixth sense or something because Charlie found that all that running made his body adapt to the strenuous activity that was called running. Because right now, he was running because of those demented twins – only now, instead of running after them, he was running away from them.

Charlie took steady and deep breaths as he ran around the quad with the blond twins close at his heels. _Honestly_ , he thoughts as he rounded another meter. _What the hell is taking Bancroft so long_?

He ignored the slight twinge on his right thigh, as he forced himself to focus on his breathing and to just try and outlast the zombie twins. The shotgun in his hands was useless; he already fired off his two remaining bullets and missed. Twice. He didn’t have any spare bullets on him, so in a valiant attempt to slow down the insistent pair, he blindly threw the shotgun behind him.

And ended up clocking one of them – Evan? Or was it Ethan? – on the face. The injured twin fell backwards and twitched a little, spraying black sludge from his mouth in the process. The other twin – Ethan? Or was it Evan? – stopped in his pursuit of him to checked on his twin, giving Charlie time to breathe. When the twin lying on the ground didn’t move any further, aside from one last twitch, the still-functioning twin turned his head in Charlie’s direction – _seriously fucking turned its head without the fucking body and how fucked up was that and that was so Exorcist and shit_ – and snarled, unhinging his jaw in the process. And what not-so-pearly whites this boy has.

 _Well, fuck_ , Charlie thought with a wince.

Needless to say, Charlie was not proud of the ladylike squeal he let out when uninjured twin – _Ethan_. It was most definitely Ethan. The boy always had a worse oral hygiene than his twin – and he pounced on him like a bitch in heat with all his unhygienic glory. He raised his clothed arm to block himself from the sludge pouring from Ethan’s mouth, and from his _wicked_ teeth – as he struggled to get the blond off him. When he heard the sound of cloth tearing, Charlie swore he saw red. He grabbed the zombie – it’s much easier if you didn’t think that they were once people – and _threw_ him off him and the body landed a few feet away from him.

“Fuck you!” Charlie shouted as he inspected the damage Ethan inflicted on his sleeve, trying to keep the tears out of his voice. There was no blood, he knew that, but his sweater was ruined. There was a hole on the sleeve, baring his elbow. “My nana knitted this for me for Christmas and you fucking ruined it, you fucker! “

Charlie only rolled his eyes heavenward as the twin responded with a growl as he struggled to stand up. The former Windsor Prefect fought the urge to vomit as he heard his bones _snapping_ and _cracking_ and did this fucker have nine lives or something? His eyes widened as the blond advanced on him – bent and dislocated knees and all. He ran as fast as he could – again – as his pursuer continued to growl and snap at him, with all the vengeance of a scorned twin.

His eyes widened even more as he seemed to be running towards Justin Bancroft – with his shotgun aiming straight at him.

“What the fuck are you doing, Bancroft?!” Charlie yelled out but didn’t slow down his pace. He’d rather be shot in the head than be eaten by a cannibalistic zombie.

Justin didn’t answer, merely cocking the shotgun as he continued to aim straight at him. When he was within hairsbreadths of shooting range, the former Hanover prefect yelled out, “Duck!”

Which he did, of course. _Praise his quick reflexe_ s. Justin fired his shot, singing a bit of his hair in the process. He felt something splatter on his back – oh god, please don’t be zombie blood – and he shielded his head with his hands, only relaxing when he heard the tell-tale plop of the body on the concrete. After a few moments, he removed his hands, tilting his head to the side to try and get rid of the ringing in his ears. He looked up at his best friend – his best friend who looked too smug for his own good.

“WHAT?!” Charlie asked, maybe a little too loudly based on Justin’s wince. He saw Justin mouth a few words but his voice was so soft Charlie could barely hear anything. He raised a finger to make the other boy stop talking. “HOLD UP! I THINK I’VE GONE A LITTLE DEAF!”

He chose to ignore the ‘ _no shit_ ’ look Justin threw in his way because he didn’t know how to explain to their other friend how he accidentally punched his best friend in the face.

 

* * *

 

_But see, as Jolly Roger right there demonstrated with his mad running skills, sometimes being fast isn’t enough. No, you have to get a gun and learn how to use it. But you have to work on your target practice too or else you’ll end up like that idiot right there and completely miss your target. And whilst he lucked out when he blindly threw that shotgun at that zombie, not everyone could be so lucky._

_And not all of us can have a gay lover – okay, fine_ Charlie _, best friend,_ whatever _\- with an impeccable aim to aid us in our time of need._

 _This brings us to rule number two of our survival guide,_ **The Double Tap _._**  

 

* * *

 

“At least give me a heads up when you start aiming at me with no actual intent of _shooting_ at me, okay?” Charlie told him as he took off his sweater, balling it and throwing it away from him. It was already ruined beyond repair. No use in keeping it. He dusted himself as he stood up, giving the other boy a slight shove.

Justin only shrugged, reloading his shotgun like he didn’t understand what the big deal was. He hoisted the satchel of supplies he retrieved from the ruins of Hanover house as he paid his best friend no mind. “Look, it got the job done. And besides, these assholes are getting clever. I didn’t want to give it a heads up too and wind up missing.”

“You could’ve at least given me a signal or something!” Charlie continued to whine. Justin rolled his eyes when he realized that the other boy wasn’t letting this go any time soon.

“What if it caught on with the signal too?” Justin argued back.

“Are you implying that I have the same brain capacity as that _thing_?” Charlie asked incredulously as he waved his hand in the general direction of the fallen zombie, still unmoving in his face down position on the concrete.

Justin held up his hands in surrender. “You were the one who said that. Not me.”

“Oh fuck off, Ban—wait, what is that?” Charlie turned his head a little. He was sure he heard something.

“What was what?” Justin asked suspiciously.

“Shh.” Charlie held up a finger as he listened more closely. He yelped – _squealed like a pig_ , really - as someone tackled him from behind, an arm around his neck, choking him. He flailed around, running around in circles as he continued screaming. “GET IT OFF ME, BANCROFT! SHOOT IT! FUCKING SHOOT IT YOU MORON!”

“Calling me a moron won’t help me shoot it, Amos,” Justin snapped as he cocked the shotgun again and took aim. “And for the love of God, stop running around in circles. STOP MOVING, AMOS!”

“THERE’S A ZOMBIE ON MY BACK! GET IT OFF! GET IT OFF! IT’S GOING TO MAKE A MEAL OUT OF ME! I DON’T WANT TO BE ZOMBIE CHOW! GET IT OFF ME!”

Charlie only paused in his mad rambling to let out an animalistic noise of pain.

“IT FUCKING TORE MY HAIR OUT, BANCROFT! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!”

Justin let out a frustrated noise as Charlie kept running around in circles, Ethan-the-zombie still on his back. He couldn’t get a clear shot at the head and he cursed himself for forgetting that you had to shoot the zombie twice to keep it down. He set his sights lower; just to get the thing off Charlie so he could finish it off.

“BANCROFT, SHOOT!”

And so Justin did.

Charlie let out a high-pitched scream.

“HANOVER, YOU MORON! YOU SHOT AMOS IN THE ASS!”

Justin barely registered the new addition as another shot was fired. The zombie landed on the concrete, black blood pouring from the bullet hole right at the center of its forehead as Charlie crumpled on the ground, passed out – the top of his head singed, there was a bald patch on the back of his head and blood pooling on his right butt cheek. Justin blinked up at the new arrival – Logan Wright, from Stuart House – as he shoved a first aid kit at his chest.

“I love asses. I love looking at asses, I love touching asses. But Amos’ ass? That’s a whole different story.” Logan pressed the first aid kit firmer against Justin’s chest. “You dug up that grave. Now lie in it.”

 

* * *

 

_In these desperate times of flesh-eating zombies, it is never a good choice to get stingy with your bullets. If you’re not sure if a zombie is still alive – or undead, whichever – or if there’s still that occasional twitch, hell even if you’re s damn certain that it’s dead, shoot it again. Don’t forget : once on the body to shoot it down, another in the head to_ **keep it down _._**

_As these flesh eating zombies began to outnumber the humans, it was time to cut off all emotional ties. Now, if the group of bratty, entitled, teenage boys under your watch started going at each other like the other was the last piece of that precious coffee cake - or one of those beloved and magical cookies Windsor seemed to be mass producing – maybe it was time to abandon your post of responsibility and started to run like hell._

_Now was the time to focus on your own survival._

 

* * *

 

Justin grunted a little as he helped Charlie in the backseat of their Hummer, along with their supplies. Charlie grinned dopily at him as he gave his best friend a little pat on the head before he giggled – fucking _giggled_ – and pressed his face against the leather seat of the vehicle. Logan threw Justin a look from his position at the driver’s seat as the Brit continued to steadily refuse to meet the younger boy in the eye. Justin shut the door, and took his place in the passenger’s seat of the Hummer, clicking his seatbelt in place.

“How many painkillers did you exactly give him?” Logan asked as he started the truck. Justin mumbled his answer softly, too soft for Logan to be able to hear. “How many?”

“Six, I think,” Justin mumbled a little louder, staring at his hands.

“He’s high, isn’t he?” Logan tried his best to control his voice but seriously, this was getting too fucking ridiculous.

“Maybe a little.” Logan laughed bitterly at that as Justin winced. “Okay, fine. He’s high. But it was the only way he would shut up with the pain, okay? Seriously, he was blabbering and I was touching _his ass_ , okay?”

“I am surrounded by idiots.”

They cruised through the empty roads quietly, the silence only occasionally broken by Charlie’s giggles. Logan’s eyebrows furrowed as those giggles slowly dissolved into steady blubbering. He tore his eyes away from the road to check on the older boy in the rearview mirror.

“They’re all dead,” Charlie mumbled miserably as, Logan noticed with disgust, he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “I mean, they were all morons but now they’re stupid _and dead_ morons.”

Justin and Logan exchanged a look, leaving everything else unspoken between them. Justin yelped a little as Charlie leaned forward and wrapped his arms around him – and the seat – pressing his wet cheek against his best friend’s. “I miss my bat. Can you be my bat? I shall name you Bat and you shall be my squishy.”

“ _Get off me, Amos_!”

“No!” Charlie muttered stubbornly, clinging on Justin a little more firmly. “You are my squishy. I miss my squishy. Stupid zombie broke my squishy. I used to sleep with it, you know. And I used to stroke it like this…” Justin let out an undignified squeak as Charlie’s hand trailed down his chest, _inside_ his shirt. The Brit gasped a little as Charlie’s fingers brushed across a nipple, and he can’t help but raise a hand on hold onto Charlie’s arm as the other boy’s hand continued their journey down his chest. Well, as far as Justin’s shirt allowed him. “It would’ve stayed with me forever if it hadn’t broken when I bashed that zombie’s brains in. Houston’s, I think. God bless the fucking irony. The poor boy spent all his life chasing after the supernatural and ended up becoming one of them. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

All throughout his tirade, Charlie’s hand didn’t miss a beat in its journey. It kept trailing light touches – up and down, up and down – against his chest, tickling at Justin’s soft chest hair, before rubbing circles across the soft skin. Justin couldn’t help but lean back against his seat, sighing softly, as he let Charlie’s hand do whatever it wanted.

Logan cleared his throat, eyes still pointedly on the road, though Justin could notice the tell-tale redness on the younger boy’s cheeks. Charlie still continued to nuzzle him though his hand retreated a little on its journey against his best friend’s chest. Justin exhaled long and shaky, trembling a little. He opened his mouth to ask his best friend to get off him before Logan grabbed his arm and threw him a look that clearly said ‘ _don’t_ ’. Justin stared at him, clearly confused, and was about to ask him why when he heard the tell-tale snore from the other boy, cheek still pressed against his. Justin gingerly pried his best friend’s out of his shirt and set it aside, leaving Charlie still leaning against his seat, still too close for Justin’s comfort. Meeting Logan’s eyebrow raise at the rearview mirror, Justin rolled his eyes.

“Shut up.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Logan paused. “I just thought I’d pleasantly remind you that _I’m_ the one who likes dick and ass in this trio. Just saying.”

“Fuck off.”

They traveled in silence for the next couple of hours. The roads were terribly deserted, not one zombie in sight. Logan sort of missed shooting things. He had a lot of pent up anger that’s just begging for release. Plus, he thought he looked pretty badass shooting zombies. It did wonders for his ego. He was a hundred percent sure that he didn’t look like a flailing idiot like the ones he had with him but hey, beggars can’t be choosers. When you live in the aftermath of a zombie apocalypse, you stay close to the non-cannibalistic fools that still remained for the sake of your sanity. And Logan barely had any to begin with so, here he was. Admittedly, he’s starting to question his life choices.

 

* * *

 

Things were going quite well. Of course, in Zombieland, things just lulled you into a misguided sense of comfort before it threw something in your way and swerved you off the highway of life. God, Logan wished that was just a pretty tacky metaphor for some other deep shit but unfortunately for them, fate likes to fuck with ‘em. So it _literally_ sends things in their way. And by things, Logan means a zombie that never bothered to get a bit of exercise after one too many plates of French fries – French fries, Logan thought longingly. What he’d do at this very moment for a plate himself. -  during its human time. He – it – was pretty fucking huge.

Logan tried his best to swerve out of its way the road but he knew he wouldn’t make it. So he slammed on the gas, ignoring Justin’s yells of “ _Turn! Turn! Fucking turn you asshole_!” and ended up nearly killing them – well, mostly Charlie, the poor chap - all.  They sped up and hit the zombie head-on and Charlie flew up front from the force of the hit and hit his head, spider-webbing the windshield with the force of his impact. The former Windsor prefect barely even stirred merely mumbled a few words before settling down in the center console. Justin had to force him back to the backseat.

The zombie clung to the hood, spitting out blood against the windshield and Logan kept skittering along the road like there wasn’t a zombie clinging to the hood of their car.

“Make sure Amos’ seatbelt is on,” Logan told Justin firmly. Justin blinked once before he unbuckled his seatbelt and dove in the backseat, buckling both his and Charlie’s seatbelt. Logan pressed his foot more firmly against the gas pedal, straining the truck’s speed to its full limit. Justin reached for his dozing best friend’s hand, hoping to God that Logan’s meds didn’t make him all loopy again.

Because from what he can see, Logan was aiming for a pretty huge truck in the middle of the road. That won’t feel like no goddamn balloon castle because it was a fucking monster truck and Logan’s intentions were pretty clear. He was planning on crashing their damn puny – well, compared to _that_ truck – vehicle into that _beast_.

Justin could notice how hard Logan gripped the steering wheel, hands twisting nervously. Justin gulped and instead focused on the zombie still clinging on their car, jaw snapping like a wild dog. Probably in annoyance, Logan turned on the windshield wiper on full speed, and Justin almost laughed at the way it hit the zombie straight at the face, smearing blood all over the glass. The Brit held back the urge to vomit.

They were gaining in on the truck. They’d hit it within a few seconds.

Justin closed his eyes.

 _And BAM_!

 

* * *

 

_And that is why we have one of our most basic, most overlooked but one of the most important rules in this guide book._

_Rule number four, ladies and gentlemen, is_ **fasten your seatbelts _._** _It’s going to be one hell of a ride._

 

* * *

 

The trio left the impact relatively unscathed. Their seatbelts were handy things and Logan survived the impact of the airbag without breaking his neck so that was a silver lining. Charlie woke up, down from his medicated high and promptly grabbed a shotgun and shot the zombie now, inexplicably, pinned between their truck and the monster truck, right in the middle of the forehead. Apparently, pain made him a pretty awesome shot.

It was pretty badass, if Justin may say so himself.

The truck still worked, sort of.  The speed lessened, terribly so, and it made this weird ‘ _clunk clunk_ ’ noise but that didn’t matter because they were tons of vehicles scattered around. But the trio felt a strange sense of loyalty to the damn thing and refused to leave it until it finally rested in peace.

It  died, when they finally reached town.

They solemnly left it in the middle of the road, somber with the loss of a dear old friend.

Charlie cried a little.

It was a pretty deserted town with only four or six zombies around. (Logan wasted no time in shooting them straight in the center of the forehead. The boy had a lot of pent up anger to release. Deal with it.)

They wandered around a little, refreshing their inventory, relieving their human needs in the bathroom with the other two standing watch - _outside_ \- and taking turns on watch while the other two slept soundly.

It was on the fifteenth day when Logan started to change.

 

* * *

 

 _Now, see, as it turns out, since the pretentious douchebag was in Hanover and bald boy wonder was in Windsor, they missed a very cardinal - and_ the most important one _\- that was in the Stuart version._

The _Golden Rule, everyone, as these two morons will soon find out, is_ **always stock up a Stuart with coffee.**

 

* * *

 

Justin tilted his head to the side, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed across his chest as Logan smashed another windshield. Glass rained down on the concrete as the younger boy continued to beat at the abused vehicle with a stray crowbar he found. Hearing the faint sound of scuffling inside the abandoned store, Justin tilted his head in acknowledgement in as Charlie appeared beside him, yawning slightly.

“What’s going on with Wright?” Charlie asked him sleepily.

“He’s a Stuart, Charlie,” Justin told him with a wry smile. Charlie gave him a look, clearly asking ‘ _So?_ ’ which made Justin laugh a little. “He’s a Stuart who hasn’t had coffee in two weeks.”

Charlie paused, his sleep muddled brain trying to piece everything together. Justin could almost hear the ‘ _click_ ’ when everything fell into place. “ _Oh._ ”

“Yeah. _Oh_.” Justin paused. “There’s a supermarket on the other side of town.”

Charlie’s brows furrowed, trying to understand. But when he finally did, he muttered - _firmly_ \- a resounding _no_. Then he suggested looking into the stores around.

“We checked in all of the stores and all the houses. No trace of coffee,” Justin told him. He then tilted his head in Logan’s direction, still smashing car windows and windshields. Still denting car metal and shattering headlights, as if their very existence offended him.  “That’s when _that_ started. A little impressive, actually, how much damage he could cause in such a short amount of time.”

“The answer is still no, you know.”

Justin barely even turned his head when Logan jumped on the hood of one of the cars, jumping up and down while hitting the roof of the car, laughing maniacally when the car pitched downward in his weight. He acted as if the car he was standing on was merely a bed and wasn’t a large piece of welded metal, bound to collapse and fall apart at the right amount of pressure. Charlie watched in amazement as the former Stuart prefect twirled, balancing perfectly on top of a constantly moving object, as he continued on giggling. And then he started to sing “Pocketful of Sunshine” at the top of his lungs and started gyrating his hips. _Well, then_ , Charlie thought as he shifted a little. _That’s…that’s not a very bad image at all._ He immediately mentally berated himself, mind desperately conjuring pictures of boobs. _God, I need to get laid._

“You wanna rethink your answer, Amos?”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we’re risking our lives just so Wright could get his precious coffee,” Charlie whispered harshly as he stomped his foot on the ground, watching as the blond retrieved weapons from the their brand new truck (hot-wired), fully intending on getting coffee – any kind of coffee, _he was that desperate for caffeine_ – in the supermarket.

“I need coffee to function, Amos,” Logan snarled out, eyes all wide and hair all mussed up. Justin could see how much the coffee-deprivation was taking a toll on the poor guy. He finally reached the ‘anger’ phase. “No one gets in the way of me and my coffee. Not lack of hot water, not flesh-eating zombies and most _fucking definitely not motherfucking bald boy wonders from Windsor House_!”

Charlie gasped scandalously, hand immediately touching the bald patch at the back of his head, immediately taking offense. He charged for Logan but Justin stepped in between them.

“Look, it’s just in and out anyways,” Justin said calmly as he stepped in between the two warring former Prefects, keeping a firm hand on both of their chests to keep them separate. “We just have to--”

He was cut mid-sentence when Logan fired of a shot against the front door, shattering the glass, tripping off the security system. Justin and Charlie took a step back as six to ten zombies started to appear and head for the front door. Logan didn’t even blink an eye when he started to shoot them one by one. The other two boys’ eyes widened in amazement when Logan didn’t miss. At all.

Coffee deprivation was definitely working in their favor.

“Now that that’s cleared up,” Logan said cheerfully, cocking his shotgun again, firing another shot just in case. “Let’s get me some coffee.”

Logan pushed open the doors and strolled in, a hop to his step, cheerfully whistling a tune as he walked inside the supermarket. Charlie and Justin followed with their own guns in their hands, ready to shoot. They shot every other zombie that appeared in their way while Logan walked past aisle by aisle, looking for the ones that contained the coffee, still whistling cheerfully.

“What the hell is he whistling?” Charlie muttered to Justin. The Brit’s eyebrows furrowed, listening intently. “It sounds familiar.

“I believe that he’s whistling ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’,” Justin said after a few moments. He listened for a few more moments before nodding. “Yep, that’s definitely ‘Pocketful of Sunshine’. Horrid song, that one is.”

(Horrid or not, the two of them ended up singing it under their breaths anyways.)

When they finally reached the aisle with the coffee, Logan gasped in horror with what he saw. There, right smack dab in the middle of the aisle, was a _bonfire_. With all kinds of containers – from jars, to packets – as fuel. Charlie and Justin slowly backed away from Logan – they could basically feel his blood pressure going up. With a scarily calm demeanor, Logan raised his gun and fired of a shot to the zombie throwing the last remaining packet of coffee from the shelves into the fire, instantly killing it. He then stretched a hand towards Charlie and Justin, asking for something.

“Bancroft, the croquet mallet please,” Logan said in an even tone. Not wanting to piss the other boy even more, Justin handed him the mallet he carried with him. Logan stalked over to the truly dead zombie near the bonfire. He paid the heat no mind and started to whack the corpse brutally.

“I WANT MY COFFEE! I WANT COFFEE! COFFEE!! MY PRECIOUS COFFEE! YOU MOTHERFUCKER, I HATE YOU! HOW DARE YOU--I CAN’T EVEN--WHAT DID YOU DO?! WHAT DID THAT POOR COFFEE DO TO YOU? _I’LL KILL_ YOU _WITH FIRE!_ ”

Charlie and Justin didn’t say a word as Logan continued to hit the corpse, spraying blood everywhere as he jumped up and down, impressively striking the zombie that took away his beloved coffee with Justin’s mallet. God, Logan was blessed with an impressive set of lungs.

‘ _He’ll get over it soon_ ’, Charlie and Justin thought to themselves as Logan continued on ranting and hitting everything he could lay his eyes on when he grew tired of beating the corpse bloody. At least, they hope he would.

 

* * *

 

The three of them absolutely had no idea where their destination is. Justin was the one driving now but he had no idea where to go. He was driving with no concrete destination.

“There was a rumor, you know,” Charlie said with a yawn next to him. Logan was sleeping off the coffee deprivation in the backseat. “My mom called me before it all went to hell. Said there was this amusement park, _Pacific Playland_ , that was free of zombies. It was a meeting place, for those uninfected. Supposedly, someone was waiting there, ready to take them to this closed off camp for the uninfected.”

“You think your ‘rents are there?” Justin asked him. “In that camp?”

Charlie could only shrug. “Won’t hurt to at least check, right?”

“Yeah.” Justin smiled a little, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Pacific Playland it is.”

Charlie gave him the instructions and Justin followed them easily enough. Logan slept for days - Charlie sheepishly admitted he might have slipped in a few sedatives in the water the younger boy drank every time he stirred - and Justin was grateful. He didn’t know how to deal with a coffee deprived Logan right now. They took a few stops, to refill their gas tank, load up in their inventory plus the necessary bathroom breaks. Charlie and Justin switched driving every once in a while so the other could sleep.

It was a pretty pleasant trip to Pacific Playland.

They arrived at the amusement park a couple of days later - when they ran out of sedatives, Logan had to go through a _lot_ of bathroom breaks for some reason - and the whole place was seemingly deserted. All of the lights and the rides were shut off. Logan could almost hear the crickets in the silence.

They drove through the locked metal gate - their new truck was very trusty - with no problem at all. Charlie pressed his face against his window, looking for any sign of life.

“We have to turn on the Ferris Wheel,” Charlie murmured when they finally halted to a stop. “That was the signal my mom said.”

He unbuckled his seatbelt and stepped out of the car as the other two followed suit. They walked around, carrying their weapons, looking for the power room.  Justin was the one who found it. He had no idea which one turned on the Ferris Wheel so he turned on all of them.

Which was a very bad idea.

In the distance, a wave of zombies appeared and made their way to the amusement park. The whole place lighted up like a neon sign, pointing down at them shouting ‘ _eat me! eat my brains!_ ’.

It didn’t take too long for the zombies to reach the trio. The three of them desperately tried to fight them all off but they were too many so in a desperate attempt to save their own butts, they split up. Which was probably not the best idea, even Logan had to admit, but they were panicking and _why did these things just turn up like weeds_?

Charlie ended up in the ' _Blast Off_ ’ ride as he hastily hit the on switch on the control panel with about ten to thirty zombies on his heel. He locked himself and let out a pretty girlish squeal when the ride _blasted off -_ bless its name - the ground. He was never all that fond of heights but he was pretty desperate to save his life. He shot as many of the zombies reaching for him down below - which wasn’t difficult considering they were all just smushed up in one crowd - and ended up killing about half.

He was pretty proud of himself.

But then the ride slowly started to descend and _why is it descending_?!

Within a few seconds, the remaining zombies could reach his feet. One even managed to cling to shoe. Charlie was sure he was zombie chow. Until the ride blasted him off the ground again, taking the zombie clinging to him with him before shaking it off a few moments later. The poor thing landed below with a squelch. He stay on top for a few minutes before he started to descend again.

_Fuck._

In last ditch attempt, he started aiming for the control panel. The first two shots were a bust and he started to panic until he remembered what Justin taught him.

_Justin carefully adjusted Charlie’s grip on the gun, his chest pressed flush against Charlie’s back. Charlie trembled a little as Justin pressed closer, hand moving from the shotgun to his chest. He’d already missed actually hitting the damn plates the first two times. He was starting to think he was hopeless at this._

_“You want to know my secret, Charlie?” Justin murmured softly straight to his ear, hand still pressed against Charlie’s chest. Charlie nodded. “Exhale slowly then squeeze the trigger.”_

And Charlie did just that.

He hit the control panel. And the ride stopped in its descent.

Logan, on the other hand, found himself locked up in one of those shooting ranges where you win stuffed toys if you managed to shoot all the targets or some shit. He was instantly surrounded by the zombies. They were everywhere. On the roof, banging on the door, reaching there fingers between the metal grates and Logan knew that he should be scared shitless but he wasn’t.

He just calmly loaded up his guns and started shooting - left, right and even _up_.

These sons of bitches took away his coffee.

 _Now he was going to take their lives_.

In Justin’s case, he was just wandering around looking for his best friend. He didn’t even bother to find for a place to hide to evade the zombies - he just shot the ones that appeared in his way. Almost like target practice. When he finally found Charlie - still in the Blast Off ride, shooting the zombies that were climbing up him - Justin didn’t hesitate in making his way to him. He shot the remaining zombies down below before focusing on the zombie that was on its way to eating his best friend.

He calmly walked over to the control panel and poked on the buttons before yanking on the lever to the side when the buttons did nothing to help at all. He grinned in delight when the ride descended, the sudden movement causing the zombie hanging on to Charlie to fall down and bash his brains in on the concrete.

Justin rushed into Charlie’s arms and kissed him the moment Charlie’s feet touched the ground when he stepped off the ride. Charlie blinked dumbly at him before he yanked Justin back into his arms and kissed him again.

“Might I need to remind you that I’m the one who likes dick in this trio?” a voice from behind them asked calmly. Justin and Charlie turned around to see Logan leaning against the entrance to the ride, a little bedraggled but still very unscathed. “Pretty sure kissing your best friend isn’t the best way to reaffirm your straightness.”

Justin and Charlie ducked their heads and blushed before exchanging a glance and puckering their lips as they stalked over to Logan.

“Does the wittle Stuart want a kiss too?” Justin teasingly asked.

“Oh no, no, no,” Logan said as he slowly backed away. Justin and Charlie were faster than him though and soon they had the former Stuart Trio in a death grip before they pressed their lips on either of his cheeks. “Damn it! Get off me!”

Logan tried to pretend he was angry but Charlie and Justin could hear the smile in his voice.

“I guess this whole thing was a bust,” Charlie said as they headed back to their truck, one of his hands still enclosed in Justin’s hand while the other handled his shotgun. He didn’t even blink at eye when he turned around and aimed behind him, shooting a stray zombie straight in the forehead. Justin smiled, loving that their shooting practice didn’t go to waste.

“Where to then?” Logan asked them as they settled inside their vehicle. He started the truck and promptly ran over a zombie, before backing up to run over it again. _Double tap_.

“Wherever the wind will take us!” Charlie yelled out from the backseat, still high from adrenaline.

Logan couldn’t fight the urge to smile. “Sounds like a good plan.”

 


End file.
